Author: John D. (Page 141 of 202)

Tokyo National Museum exhibition

MAY 16, 2013 Japan Times

“The number of Shinto shrines in Japan has changed over centuries due to various political and social changes. There were about 190,000 shrines during the early Meiji Era (1867-1912), before a drastic change came about in the merging of shrines and temples. The number of shrines was greatly reduced, and now there are only around 80,000. That’s not much more than the number of convenience stores across Japan.”

This is how Tsunekiyo Tanaka, president of Jinja Honcho (Association of Shinto Shrines) began a lecture — with a little humor. Established after World War II, Jinja Honcho was created to supervise Shinto shrines throughout in Japan, and Tanaka was speaking at a recent special public event hosted by “The Grand Exhibition of Sacred Treasures from Shinto Shrines” at the Tokyo National Museum.

Accessory box with maki-e lacquer and plum blossom design (courtesy Japan Times)

The exhibition celebrates the 62nd “grand relocation” of the Ise Grand Shrine and is being held with special assistance from Jinja Honcho and with the cooperation of numerous individual shrines throughout Japan.

Although Shinto, the way of kami (gods), is believed to be an indigenous faith of Japan, few Japanese are devoted Shintoists. Instead, many visit Buddhist temples as well as pray for luck and happiness at Shinto shrines. It is believed that before Buddhism was introduced in Japan, however, Shinto was born from an existing primitive form of religion that worshipped nature.

The ancient people of Japan honored sacred spirits that they recognized in nature, manifesting in mountains, rocks, rivers and trees. As communities grew, they began erecting shrines where they could worship these deities, and the shrines became centers of regional life and culture.

The arrival of Buddhism, however, brought with it stylistic carved figural icons, an art form that influenced Shinto imagery, and as Shinto-Buddhist syncretism progressed, many Shinto shrines and their deities were combined with Buddhist temples and figures. Even Japanese who still follow Shinto find it difficult to grasp what it really means, although many Japanese customs, such as an emphasis on purification and aesthetics in harmony with nature, appear to be derived from Shinto.

Tanaka, a Shinto priest of Iwashimizu Hachimangu, Kyoto, explained it as simply as he can: “In comparison to Western religions, such as Christianity, for which people believe in an absolute God, followers of Shinto sense kehai (presence of spirits) in the nature.

“Shinto never had holy scriptures like the bible to follow, nor does it have a doctrine. It’s more of a way of living, or the wisdom of how to live in harmony with the nature, while being grateful and respectful of all the spirits of life,” he continued. “Shinto has permeated everyday life in such a way that most people are not particularly conscious of its influence.”

Omusubi (rice balls), for example, originally symbolized the tying of the “souls” of ine (rice plants), which themselves are believed to be inherited from kami.

Child-bearing magatama beads found at the Okinoshima site in Kyushu (courtesy Japan Times)

“You take firm hold of the rice, the souls, and mold them with both hands, which have been purified with a little salt and water,” Tanaka said. “Mothers’ hands are ideal to make omusubi, as the mother represents life, love and care. Now, though, people often buy omusubi at convenience stores.”

As Tanaka explained in his talk, it is rare to have the relocation of two major shrines, Ise and Izumo, in the same year — and so he hopes these events will help “revive the relationship between people and kami by evoking the awareness of its tradition and rich cultural background”

Ise Grand shrine in Mie Prefecture, the most venerated of shrines in Japan, is dedicated to Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess, who, according to myth, is the original ancestor of the imperial family. The first relocation ceremony of Ise was in 690 AD, and since then the ritual is repeated every 20 years. It involves the temporary relocation of the shrine’s kami during the renovation of the grounds’ buildings. The procedure not only ensures the preservation the original design of the shrine, but it also gives craftsmen the opportunity to showcase and pass down their skills to the next generation.

“It is believed that the kami are also rejuvenated through the renewal of buildings and furnishings,” said Hiroshi Ikeda, special research chair of the Tokyo National Museum. “And that implies the idea of everlasting youth, known as tokowaka.”

Numerous sacred treasures — including 160 designated National Treasures and Important Cultural Properties — from various shrines have been brought together for this commemoration of Ise’s grand relocation. Unprecedented in scale and scope, the exhibition showcases Shinto artworks that vary from symbolic objects such as a bronze mirror and Japanese magatama beads, to more practical items including arms and armor, beautifully embroidered garments, furniture, a writing box and an accessory box complete with a toiletries set of combs decorated with mother-of-pearl inlay and maki-e lacquer.

“The sacred treasure items are often oversized or undersized, emphasizing that they were not for human use,” Ikeda explained. “They emulated the styles once popular in the residences of imperial and aristocratic families, and so such objects came to represent court society life and aesthetics, from which Japanese style, known as wayo developed.”

A 'shinzo' representation of a kami (courtesy Japan Times)

Ikeda went on to explain that shinzo, (Shinto kami statues), were also made in the style of Japan’s aristocrats. Kami, which were originally understood to be invisible and intangible deities, first began to be represented in figural form in the 8th century, because of the influence of popular Buddhist statues.

“The earliest surviving examples of Shinto statues date from the 9th century,” Ikeda said. “And as there were no iconographic rules for Shinto kami statues, as there are for Buddhist ones, they were represented more freely, modeling court style.

Other sections of the exhibition focus on discoveries at ceremonial sites that indicate the beginnings of a ritual celebration of kami, and on objects — including costumes, instruments and masks — used at ceremonial performances at festivals. Such rituals involved asking kami and ancestral spirits for divine protection, and praying or giving thanks for peace and a bountiful harvest.

At festivals, specially prepared foods were presented as offerings, to be enjoyed alongside a variety of ceremonial performances, including music, dance and Noh plays. All of this harks back to the original purpose of food and performing arts in Shinto — the idea that those involved in the preparation of food and musical or Noh activities would devote themselves to the skills of their art form to please kami, with the belief that kami also reside in the highest achievement of art.

In the words of Tanaka: “In Japan, anything in your life can be the ‘way’ of something, or a discipline, which is something I believe was influenced by Shinto. Take for example, the way of the sword, calligraphy, singing, or even cooking noodles — these can be accomplished with the sincere aim of excelling to the highest achievement, the results of which can be only offered to kami.”

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“Grand Exhibition of Sacred Treasures from Shinto Shrines” at the Tokyo National Museum runs till June 2; open 9:30 a.m.- 5 p.m. (Fri. till 8 p.m., Sat, Sun till 6 p.m.) ¥1,500. Closed Mon. www.tnm.jp The exhibition next venue will be the Kyushu National Museum from Jan. 15-March 9, 2014.

 

The Way of Slicing Fish - a demonstration at Yoshida Shrine in Kyoto. “In Japan, anything in your life can be the ‘way’ of something, or a discipline, which is something I believe was influenced by Shinto."

Aoi parade report

Palace guards, past and present

 

Aoi Festival Grand Procession: Ancient Capital Shines under Clear Skies
adapted from the Kyoto Shimbun

The Aoi Festival, the first of Kyoto’s three major festivals, stretched out through Kyoto City today. A total of 511 participants dressed in noble costumes gracefully proceeded along the streets of the ancient capital. According to Kyoto Prefectural Police figures at 11:00a.m., approximately 19,000 visitors gathered along the route to enjoy the dazzling spectacle of the Heian dynasty.\

This year's Saoi-dai in the junihitoe (twelve-layered) kimono.

The Aoi Festival is an annual festival of Kamigamo Shrine in Kita Ward and Shimogamo Shrine in Sakyo Ward. Although its formal name is “Kamo Festival,” it is called “Aoi” instead from the decorations of Aoi leaves, or mallows, on the costumes of the procession participants. The origin of the festival dates back to the 6th century fable of the Emperor praying for national prosperity and rich harvests.

In the clear, warm weather, the approximately one-kilometer long procession departed at 10:30a.m. from the Kenrei-mon Gate of the Kyoto Imperial Palace in Kamigyo Ward, Kyoto. In the main procession called “Konoezukai-dai Retsu,” children dressed in “Suikan” costumes pulled the ropes of an ancient oxcart decorated with wisteria flowers, and “Konoezukai-dai,” representing imperial retainers, advanced in a dignified manner riding on horseback.

The “Saio-dai Retsu” with court ladies followed at the back of that procession. As the “Saio-dai,” or festival heroine, on the “Oyoyo,” or a wheeled palanquin, who was dressed in elegant “Junihitoe,” or traditional multi-layer court costume, along with other court ladies and girls approached, residents and tourists along the streets were fascinated by her pure beauty.

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Kyoto Shimbun 2013.4.15

Maiko Nagase Selected as Aoi Festival Heroine: The 58th Saio-dai Hopes to “Serve Wholeheartedly”

This year's Saio-dai without her make-up and costume

Maiko Nagase from Sakyo Ward, Kyoto, was selected as the 58th “Saio-dai,” or heroine of the Aoi Festival, one of the three major Kyoto festivals, which is held on May 15. It was announced by the “Aoi-Matsuri Gyoretsu Hozonkai,” or Aoi Festival procession conservation group, on April 15. She is a third year student at University of the Sacred Heart in Tokyo, who is now living in Shibuya Ward, Tokyo.

Maiko is the oldest daughter of Takamitsu Nagase and Itsumi Nagase. Her father runs Kyoraku Co., Ltd, which manufactures and distributes plastic products. She enjoys cooking and playing golf, tennis, and the flute in her free time. Maiko faced the press conference dressed in a kimono which her grandmother, Hiroko, selected for her. “I would like to serve the role wholeheartedly, with gratitude. My wish is to become an attractive Saio-dai, always having dignity and a smile,” said Maiko, when asked about her hopes.

The press conference was held in Kyoto Heian Hotel in Kamigyo Ward, the site of a residence of Maiko’s grandfather, Shunzo Nagase, in the 1930s. The Japanese garden at the time is said to remain the same as it was then. “If my father were still alive, he would be more pleased than anyone to have it announced here that my daughter will serve as the Saio-dai,” said Maiko’s father, Takamitsu.

The Saio-dai is the heroine of the Aoi Festival, who serves at religious rites of the festival for the Saio, or an Imperial Princess, who served the Kamigamo and Shimogamo Shrines in the Heian Period. The role was revived in 1956 as Saio-dai, long after being abolished in the early Kamakura Period.

Women dressed in Heian-era kimono setting off in the parade from Gosho (Former Imperial Palace)

Parade participants setting out, with a long hot day in front of them before they reach their destination at Kamigamo Jinja

Mikage-sai (Pre-Aoi)

Participants in the procession await the arrival of the kami at Shimogamo

 

This is the second part of the entry about Mikage-sai, which takes place on May 12.  A previous post covered the morning ritual at Shimogamo Shrine, when participants partake in purification rites prior to taking buses up to Mikage Shrine to receive the kami.

At Mikage Shrine, a cloth barrier is erected so that outsiders cannot see, and while the processional members have lunch, priests carry out the ritual invitation to the kami to descend.  To ensure purity they wear white gloves and masks.  The two kami descend into aoi flowers contained in wooden boxes, which are covered in white silk.  The boxes are then placed in a mikoshi on a truck to be transported back to Shimogamo Shrine.

Back at Shimogamo, the kami are placed on horseback to be transported through the Tadasu no mori woods to enter the shrine.  (The original means of transport from Mikage Shrine would have been by horse, the true ‘vehicle’ of the gods.)  For the entertainment of the kami there are dances and gagaku music, to welcome them and put them in a good mood prior to the main Aoi event on May 15.

Dances for the kami, seated on the back of the horse in the coloured tent

While the kami are entertained, the horse looks on intrigued

The head of the procession proceeds towards the main shrine

The horse carries the kami into the Honden compound

Alternative to Yasukuni

The Japan Times carries a short piece today noting PM Abe’s lukewarm response about the need for an alternative to Yasukuni…

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Prime Minister Shinzo Abe sounded a cautious note Tuesday about a proposal to establish a new state-managed war memorial as a substitute for Yasukuni Shrine, which honors Class-A war criminals as well as the nation’s war dead.

“How bereaved families would feel about such a new war memorial is a very big issue,” Abe told the House of Councilors Budget Committee, although adding that Japan may need a monument that lacks religious affiliation where people can place flowers, noting other countries have such sites.

Yasukuni Shrine, located in central Tokyo, is regarded as a symbol of Japan’s past militarism by China and South Korea, where the memories of Japan’s wartime atrocities remain.

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Nationalism will undermine Japan
MAY 15, 2013 Japan Times editorial

Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s recent remarks on Japan’s wartime behavior and Yasukuni Shrine, which enshrines some 2.5 million Japanese war dead plus convicted Class-A war criminals from World War II, will undermine the trust that postwar Japan has built in the international community. Japan’s neighbors will not forget the sufferings and hardships they experienced from Japan’s war in the 1930s and ’40s, and Japan cannot force them to erase their memories. Mr. Abe must realize that his remarks and attitude will undermine Japan’s position as a trusted and responsible member of the international community.

On April 20 and 21, three Cabinet ministers including Deputy Prime Minister Taro Aso visited Yasukuni Shrine. And on April 23, 168 lawmakers, the highest figure since 1987, made similar visits to the shrine.

Mr. Abe told the Upper House Budget Committee on April 23 that the definition of “aggression” has not been clearly made “academically or internationally” and that it becomes different depending on from what angle one looks at the matter in the context of relations between countries. His words undermine Prime Minister Tomiichi Murayama’s 1995 statement in which he apologized to Asian countries for Japan’s “colonial rule and aggression” causing “tremendous damage and suffering” to their people. He should not forget that the Murayama statement played a great role in increasing international trust of Japan.

 

Japan's nationalists are on the march - here pictured on a ritual visit to Kashihara Jingu

Mikage-sai (Pre-Aoi)

Shimogamo sparkling in the sunshine as participants line up in order

 

May 12 is a big day for Kyoto.  An awesome day, you might say.  This is the day when the two co-hosts of the Aoi Matsuri, Shimogamo and Kamigamo, receive the kami from their sacred hills and renew the spirit power of the shrines.  The way they do this is quite a contrast.

The Miare-sai of Kamigamo Shrine is the most secret in Kyoto, carried out in darkness and exclusive of all outsiders.  The only participants are twelve priests, most of whom have engaged in ritual abstinence and purification beforehand.  The purpose is to petition the descent of the shrine kami, Kamo Wakeikazuchi.

Around 7.50 pm the priests leave the administration building, with a single burning reed torch to light the way. They walk in the direction of the sacred hill Koyama to an area where a wall of pine boughs prevents sight of a himorogi (vehicle in which to receive the kami). The kami is riually invited to descend, and once it has alighted the head priest waiting back at the shrine is informed by a loud crow call (the Kamo were ‘the crow clan’ associated with the three-legged crow in the Jimmu myth).  The head priest then prepares to lead the investiture of the newly energised spirit in the Honden.

At Shimogamo on the other hand there is a colourful festival involving a large procession of people in Heian-era costume.  After rites of purification, the participants are handed the various flags and ceremonial objects they will carry with them.  In olden days they would then have walked or ridden on horse back to Mt Mikage, some distance away – now they ride by chartered bus, and the mikoshi to bear the kami travels by truck.

The way I see the two festivals is as a kind of recharging of the batteries.  The kami that reside in the ‘spirit-body’ of the shrine are like a charge of electricity – pure energy – and once a year they need to be renewed or revitalised by recharging from the source.  The kami of Kamigamo originally ‘descended’ onto Mt Koyama; those of Shimogamo onto Mt Mikage. In this way, with fully recharged batteries, the two shrines are fully prepared for the big parade of May 15 and the visit of the Imperial Messenger.

The mikoshi sits on a truck, incongruously parked in the entrance gateway of the inner compound

Participants are purified prior to the beginning of the event

Priests at prayer towards the Mitarashi Shrine which houses a kami of purification

Opening rituals are carried out by miko and priests in full view of all

Participants in the procession are called up one by one and handed their respective ceremonial items

Priestess with the unusual headdress worn at Shiimogamo. Standing still through all the pre-rituals takes a lot of patience.

In a carefully choreographed circular sweep of the shrine compound, the procession begins to file out

Then into the woods of Shimogamo where a line of buses stand waiting to transport participants up to sacred Mt Mikage.

Japan and beauty

One of my favourite writers about Japan, Michael Hoffman, has brought out a long article in the Japan Times today on Japan and notions of beauty, prompted by the current right-wing prime minister’s declaration that he wants to promote a ‘beautiful Japan’.  What exactly he means is unclear, since his policies seem designed to foster the very opposite… monetarism, nationalism and the alienation of close neighbours.

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‘Beauty’ as beheld in Japan through the ages
BY MICHAEL HOFFMAN  May 12, 2013 Japan Times

Dogu in the Kokugaku University museum

How far back should we take our story of Japanese beauty? We could, theoretically, take it very far back indeed — some 12,000 years, to the start of the prehistoric Jomon Period (circa 10,500-c.300 B.C.) and the emergence of the figurines known as dogū. These rank among the world’s oldest ceramic sculptures. They are starkly, shockingly beautiful; starkly, shockingly ugly too, as the nakedly primitive cannot help seeming to the civilized eye. Most of the figures depict pregnant women. Experts say they were probably fertility symbols — embodied prayers (to who knows what supernatural powers) for enhanced fertility.

Were they meant to be beautiful? Did the notion of beauty even exist then? A glimmer of it, perhaps? There is simply no knowing.

When Japanese civilization eventually awoke, it was to a sense of its own beauty. That’s unusual. Most early literature celebrates power rather than beauty.

But Japan was a “beautiful country” from infancy, a kind of Garden of Eden from which there was no Fall. Shy god meets shy goddess; they mate, and the goddess gives birth to “the Great-eight-island Land” — Japan.

Izanagi and Izanami creating a divine world from primordial matter

Then, says the eighth-century chronicle “Nihon Shoki,” “Izanagi no Mikoto (the god) said: ‘Over the country which we have produced there is naught but morning mists that shed a perfume everywhere!’ So he puffed them away with a breath, which became changed into a god named Shina tohe no Mikoto” — the wind god.

“Moreover, the child they procreated when they were hungry was called Uka no mi-tama no Mikoto” — the food god. “Thereafter they produced all manner of things whatsoever” — a vast profusion of gods and goddesses, until Izanami, the mother-goddess, was horribly burned giving birth to the fire-god. But life was triumphant even in death, for Izanami’s putrefaction and Izanagi’s tears themselves became gods and goddesses, the “Nihon Shoki” recounts.

To the earliest Japanese whose minds are at all penetrable today — perhaps also to the Jomon people; certainly to their descendants, the Ainu of Hokkaido — the land was sacred. Rivers, trees, mountains, soil were worshiped before gods were.

“Our poetry appeared at the dawn of creation,” says the preface to the Kokinshu, a 10th-century poetry anthology. It was a poetry of beauty. “Poets praised blossoms, admired birds, felt emotion at the sight of haze, and grieved over dew.” Note the past tense; the writer (Ki no Tsurayuki, a poet himself) is praising poetry that already in his day was one, two or three centuries old — dating back almost to the very birth of Japanese literacy.

“The song of the warbler among the blossoms, the voice of the frog dwelling in the water — these teach us that every living creature sings. It is a song that moves heaven and earth,” said Ki no Tsurayuki.  Birdsong is sound. Human song is poetry.

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“Japan has become arguably the world’s ugliest country.”

That verdict is writer and conservationist Alex Kerr’s, in a noted book titled Dogs and Demons: Tales from the Dark Side of Japan (2001).

Kerr was born too late.

“These islands were once lovely in a way we can scarcely imagine,” writes historian Hiroshi Watanabe in his 2010 book A History of Japanese Political Thought, 1600-1901.  The few Western visitors who saw it before pell-mell modernization began in the late 19th century, he says, “spoke almost universally of feeling that they had been transported to a dreamlike and enchanted land, like something in a fairy tale. … Edo (renamed Tokyo in 1868) was already one of the world’s most populous cities. Yet in it there was neither a single horse-drawn carriage nor a single steam engine to be seen. It must have been remarkably quiet, even in daytime. … There were no gas lamps or electric lights. On clear nights the sky above Edo was ablaze with the Milky Way; on nights when moon and stars were obscured, the streets were plunged in darkness. As a rule, people got about on foot.”

Once a shrine like this would have had an appealing charm and beauty. Now it's hemmed in by urbanisation that reflects values quite different from that of traditional aesthetics

Kerr, some 150 years later, indicts and convicts the “state-sponsored vandalism” of the postwar “construction state” — a nation 40 percent of whose budget funds public works projects, as against 8-10 percent in the United States, 4-6 percent in Britain and France.

He highlights the resulting ravages: “Across the nation, men and women are at work reshaping the landscape. … Builders of small mountain roads dynamite entire hillsides. Civil engineers channel rivers into U-shaped concrete casings. … The River Bureau has dammed or diverted all but three of Japan’s 113 major rivers. … The seaside reveals the greatest tragedy: By 1993, 55 percent of the entire coast of Japan had been lined with cement slabs and giant concrete tetrapods.”

And all this, Kerr laments, in a land whose native Shinto spirituality “holds that Japan’s mountains, rivers and trees are sacred, the dwelling place of gods.”

The Liberal Democratic Party, father and custodian of the “construction state” through 54 years of nearly unbroken rule beginning in 1955, fell to a wave of popular disgust in 2009. The incoming Democratic Party of Japan promised “people before concrete.” The “construction state” seemed doomed.  But the novice government fumbled, surviving a mere three years.

The resurgent LDP under Abe now touts an old policy dressed up in a new name: “Abenomics.” An early manifestation was a ¥20.2 trillion emergency economic stimulus package.  Concrete is back.  Is concrete beautiful?  Two decades of economic stagnation can make it seem so, if Abe’s approval ratings — consistently between 60 and 70 percent — mean anything.

A new Japan is obscuring the beauty of the past

 

Nature poetry and worship

Heian-style poetry competition: close to nature, close to the heart of Shinto

 

In a Japan Times article on Beauty in Japan today, one of my favourite writers on Japan, Michael Hoffman, puts forward some interesting thoughts about early Japanese poetry and the attitudes to nature that it reflects.

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In the beginning, the Japanese worshiped nature.  Most infant cultures do.  To them everything is alive, everything partakes of birth and death; anything may call forth awe, fear, reverence.  The Japanese were rich in awe and reverence but not in fear.  They tamed nature in their thoughts long before they tamed it physically.  They tamed it in their poetry.

The early Japanese domesticated nature as other, more rugged early cultures domesticated wild horses and cattle. Poetry was Japan’s bridle and yoke.

Japan’s first poetry anthology is the eighth-century Manyoshu.  Its more than 4,000 poems were written over 300 years beginning in the fourth century.

Has any other embryonic culture ever been so quick to shake off the primal terrors? None surface in the Manyoshu. The nature portrayed is innocent, unthreatening, defanged.  It is quietly, serenely beautiful:

“Many are the mountains of Yamato [Japan],/ but I climb heavenly Kagu Hill/ that is cloaked in foliage.” “I remember/ our temporary shelter by Uji’s palace ground, when we cut the splendid grass on the autumn fields.” ” ‘Kuan kuan’ cry the osprey on a sandbar in the river.” “A splendid land/ is the dragonfly island/ the land of Yamato.”

Naturally, there is sadness, too:  “… my girl,/ who had swayed to me in sleep/ like seaweed of the offing,/ was gone/ like the coursing sun/ gliding into dusk,/ like the radiant moon/ secluding itself behind the clouds …”

But the sorrow of bereavement fades into the tranquil and consoling motions of the natural world.

Nature as depicted by the “Manyoshu” poets “was not lofty mountains, not desolate plains, not great oceans and not forests filled with wild beasts,” observed the literary historian Shuichi Kato (in “A History of Japanese Literature,” 1979), “but gentler places such as Kagu Hill, … fields, bays where boats passed to and fro between islands, and shallows where cranes made their cries. … Nature to them was not something vast and wild, but something small, gentle and intimate.”

"It is a god that watches over Japan — / Over Yamato, the Land of the Sunrise"

Is that true without exception? How could it be, with cone-shaped, snow-clad Mount Fuji towering over the land?

“Even the clouds of heaven, struck with awe,/ Dare not pass over that steep peak/ …It is a god that watches over Japan — / Over Yamato, the Land of the Sunrise …”

Much later there was a “back-to-Manyoshu” movement, led by 18th-century nativists who deplored the corruption they attributed to foreign thought.

One of them, Kamo no Mabuchi (1697-1769), in an essay titled “Thoughts on Poetry” (1764), wrote, “In ancient times people’s hearts were direct and straightforward. … But then the ideas and words of babbling China and India were introduced into our country.”

Under what he perceived as the baneful influence of Confucianism and Buddhism, “things became complex, so the hearts of those here who used to be straightforward were blown by a wind from the shadows and turned wicked.”

The remedy?  We must, says Kamo, “each morning face the sacred mirror of old,” to see reflected there a world “without human artifice,” ruled by “gods who, with the ancient and tranquil great Way of this peaceful country, governed in accordance with heaven and earth and without regulation, fabrication, force, or instruction.  The poetry of the ancients makes this clear, and our own poetry should be the same.”

Poetry that issues clear and fresh from the human heart, like a mountain stream

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